At 8am on the dot
It begins on any given day

What commences as front porch church
Sacred sunrays in trees
Choir of bird song
Leaves rustling atop hundred year old oaks
Chittering squirrels frolicking at their base

Decomposes into lawn care chaos
Whirling weed whackers
Growling lawn mower engines
And the worst culprit
The drone of the dreaded leaf blowers
Muddling my morning meditation

Tomorrow, I will start my service at six
Before the heathens are up